Emotions
by pisces317
Summary: House and Wilson form a romantic relationship while House is caring for an injured Wilson. This is a look at all the emotions House and Wilson experiences during their relationship. A hurt/comfort, fluff and  hopefully  angsty fic. Slash included
1. Chapter 1

**Title: ****Caring & Jealousy******

**Author: ****Megan/mmorgan317 or pisces317******

**Rating: ****PG-13******

**Summary: ****House and Wilson form a romantic relationship while House is caring for an injured Wilson. As their relationship progresses, he gets jealous of Wilson's attention to the nursing staff and accuses him of cheating. A Hurt/Comfort. Fluff and (hopefully) Angst filled fic.******

**Spoilers: ****Moving the Chains spoilers.******

**Disclaimer: ****Not mine, just borrowing******

**Author's Notes: ****I started this fic as a donation to "Kicking it Old School" but, as is the way with my fics, it slowly eased into a slashy fic so I've decided to make it its own thing. So the first chapter is loosely based off Season 6's Moving the Chains episode.**

**Chapter 1:**

Wilson didn't even know what had hit him. The last thing he knew was he and House had been walking to a table to enjoy lunch, talking about Foreman and his brother and now he was on the ground while the remnants of his lunch rolled across the cafeteria floor. He looked up to find Lucas, Cuddy's boyfriend, with his leg sticking out.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Was my leg sticking out?" He asked faking concern. "You see, I was distracted by trying to think of something funnier than fire alarm sprinklers going off in the middle of the night. Any ideas?"

Realization dawned on both men; shock registering on Wilson's face while a sneer appeared on House's.

Wilson moved to stand only to collapse back onto the floor with a pained cry. In all the "excitement" of finding out who was playing pranks on them, he hadn't felt the burning throb in his ankle but he did now and it hurt.

He blushed when he noticed that almost everyone within seeing distance of him was peering over at him curiously. He hadn't meant to cry out but the pain had caught him by surprise.

Being mindful of his injured ankle, Wilson tried to stand again and actually managed it while he waved off curious and concerned looks from people around him. He noted with no small sense of satisfaction that Lucas' face was one of those set in concern; obviously he hadn't meant for anyone to get hurt during his pranks.

House limped up to him after setting his own tray down on an empty table. He'd heard the noise of Wilson's tray clattering to the ground behind him and had turned only to find Wilson on the ground and Lucas looking at them both with amusement on his face.

He'd listened to Lucas' ramble with a plan already forming in his mind, trying to think of the pranks he could play on the other man. He was the master prankster after all wasn't he?

He hadn't noticed Wilson trying to get off the floor until a pained cry greeted his ears. The diagnostician looked over at his friend and found him sitting on the floor loosely clutching his ankle. He noticed that Wilson seemed to be examining the injury while blushing furiously at the attention he'd gathered.

When Wilson started to get up again, House had almost told him to stay on the floor until someone had taken a look at the oncologist's ankle but showing that amount of concern for another human being just wasn't his style, even if it was Wilson. While he made his way over to Wilson, he watched closely as his friend stiffly got off the floor and leaned on the closest clothed chair, careful to keep as much weight as possible off his injured leg.

"You okay?" House asked gruffly, careful to keep any concern from truly reaching his voice.

Wilson looked up at him and offered a small smile when he saw the worry in his friend's blue eyes. "Yeah, I'm okay." He answered as he gingerly lowered his leg to test his ankle. He gasped as pain shot through it, reverberating through the tips of his toes to his knee. It was a sprain though probably not a bad one, he concluded silently to himself.

Lucas, who had been watching the two men's interaction and listening intently, continued to sit in his seat but eyed Wilson critically. Inwardly he felt bad, he hadn't meant for either one of them to get hurt (not counting the scratch on House's face of course) but he hoped that outwardly he had managed to keep the mask of indifference on his face.

"What the hell?" Came a familiar voice, causing all three men to jump. Cuddy came strolling up to them, her five inch heels click-clacking away on the cafeteria linoleum. Upon noticing the mess that had been made and the attention they were getting she'd guessed that they were responsible for it all and wanted answers. "What happened?"

"I fell," Wilson answered, albeit a little hesitantly, "and dropped my tray in the process."

Cuddy surveyed the mess, confirming that he did in fact drop his tray. That didn't however explain why all three of them were in the cafeteria talking to each other, and if she had a guess not too friendly-like either. She took in the guilty look on her boyfriend's face and decided to hazard a guess. "You're not naturally clumsy." She began, "The only times you've had an accident is when someone else has helped you to."

The three blushed deeply but the only reply she got was, " 'Had an accident' what is he a puppy?"

She turned to House, "Well that would help support your 'Wilson's a puppy-dog' theory wouldn't it?" She turned to Lucas, "What happened?"

"He fell." Lucas answered putting on an innocent face while waving a hand at Wilson.

"He left out the part where HE made Wilson fall." House put in. Normally he wouldn't have said anything but since Wilson had been injured because of the action he wasn't about to let it slide. Granted, Wilson wasn't seriously injured, probably twisted his ankle, but still, he doesn't allow anyone hurting his friend.

Lucas and Wilson both blushed deeper at House's admission though for different reasons. Lucas blushed because he had been caught and would more than likely be in trouble with his girlfriend. Wilson on the other hand blushed because House pointing out the reason meant that Lucas would more than likely tell Cuddy who had bought the loft out from under her and he knew she'd be upset with him for that.

Cuddy's face stayed in the stony expression it had been since she'd started talking to them. She let out a heavy sigh and gazed at them all; clearly something was going on and she'd have to play mediator to figure out what. "My office, all of you." She commanded in her best administrator voice.

"Go get a set of crutches and we will." House commanded right back.

"Why do you need crutches? You weren't the one that fell." She answered, her brows furrowing and her grey-blue eyes shining with concern and curiosity.

"I didn't say they were for me." House countered with his 'you're an idiot' expression on his face.

"They're for me." Wilson admitted quietly. "I sprained my ankle when I fell." He told her, using his left hand to motion to the mess.

Cuddy had to repress the urge to smack herself in the forehead at this point. _Great!_ "Of course you did." She commented, inwardly wincing when she saw a flicker of hurt cross Wilson's face. "Sit down in that chair while I go get a wheelchair."

Wilson straightened his previously hunched posture, "I don't need a wheelchair," he objected, "I probably don't even need crutches. Just a cane."

"Don't be an idiot." House snapped lightly. "You can't even put weight on your ankle."

Cuddy eyed Wilson clinically for a moment. She could have laughed when she noticed that House was right, Wilson was doing his best not to put weight on his right leg and used the closest chair to stay upright. _Of course he was right_, she admonished herself, _he notices everything when it comes to Wilson. _"I'll go get the crutches." She answered softly, deferring to Wilson's pride rather than practicality. An injured ankle wasn't necessarily grounds for a wheelchair anyways.

"Thanks." Wilson told her, still standing. He didn't really want to go to her office to explain but he didn't want to stay in the cafeteria any longer than he had to either so he stayed standing, hoping that she'd return quickly.

The scraping of a chair being dragged across the linoleum caught Wilson's attention. House had hooked the curved end of his cane around a char and had pushed it towards Wilson, "Sit." He commanded firmly though not unkindly.

Wilson thought about objecting but was nudged into the chair by said chair being pushed into his knees. Once seated, he folded his arms somewhat petulantly and stretched his long legs out in front of him.

"Let me look at your ankle." House ordered while he grabbed a chair for himself.

"House, I'm fine and I can wait until we get to Cuddy's office." Wilson placated almost imploringly. "Oh, look! Here's Cuddy with the crutches." He chirped when he spotted the Dean of Medicine.

House turned around to find that Cuddy was indeed walking hastily in with a pair of crutches in her hands. Her assistant, Charles, followed beside her, memorizing whatever she was instructing him to do.

Grudgingly, House stood up and helped Wilson to do the same. Lucas eased himself off his own chair and stood relaxed next to the other two. He'd made a move to help Wilson up but House was faster and threw him a look that dared him to come closer and find out what happened if he did.

Cuddy handed the crutches over to her Head of Oncology then, without waiting to make sure they were the right height, spun on her heel and headed for her office stopping only to throw each of them a glare that commanded them to follow.

Lucas followed obediently, she was his girlfriend after all, and was the first to leave. House made sure Wilson was set before he started his own limping walk behind his boss. Wilson tested the crutches. He'd never had to use them before and therefore wasn't used to maneuvering them and himself. Once he got the hang of it, he was able to catch up to the group with ease, ignoring the concerned looks from nurses, colleagues, and even House's team.

They made it to her office without much trouble and filed in singularly with Cuddy at the end, holding the door open for them and waiting for her assistant to return. She'd sent him to grab some supplies so they'd be able to examine, wrap and ice Wilson's ankle. Though she felt like she was demoralizing him by doing so, she knew it needed to be done.

She didn't know if Wilson was the kind of man who had a high pain tolerance, though years of friendship with House would suggest it, but with any person if they weren't able to apply weight to their injured ankle without pain to hinder it would signify they were hurt badly enough for aide.

Charles arrived, quickly handed her a hospital bag and then went over to his desk. Normally he would have been annoyed at being sent on a 'gofer run' but he liked Dr. Wilson enough so that he didn't want the man to be in pain and therefore obliged with his boss' request.

Cuddy walked into her office and took in the sight before her. Lucas sat slouching in one of the chairs in front of her desk while House had taken the other one and was sitting opposite Wilson, who was on the couch, currently arguing with the oncologist about examining his ankle.

"House, I already told you I'm fine." Wilson objected.

House ignored the protestation and grabbed Wilson's right leg, propping it on top of his left. "Yeah, that's why you needed crutches to get here." He argued while he untied Wilson's shoe. He pulled the shoe off quickly earning a pained yelp from Wilson. While he pulled the sock off his friend's foot, House inwardly winced at how swollen the ankle and foot were and briefly wondered if he could have been more gentle with taking the shoe off. He quickly dismissed the idea; Wilson's shoe was stiff leather and wouldn't have come off easily no matter how gentle anyone had been.

Cuddy strode in, leaving the doorway, and sat down on the coffee table next to House, opposite Wilson. She took the ice pack and compression bandage out of the bag and laid them gently on her own lap. Like House, she inwardly winced at the tennis ball sized ankle and the accompanying swelling around it.

House ignored Cuddy's presence beside him and concentrated on his examination of Wilson's ankle. He palpitated his friend's foot first to determine if the swelling was from the ankle or if it was injured as well. Content with the lack of response he was getting from the oncologist while he performed his test, House moved on to the ankle.

He firmly held on to his friend's calf while he manipulated the foot, turning and bending the injured ankle to determine what was damaged and how bad. He had to restrain himself from wincing every time Wilson let out a pained noise and was grateful that his friend seemed to be trying to restrain himself from making them.

Reaching out, House grabbed the compression wrap from Cuddy and began applying it to Wilson's ankle. "You need to get an X-Ray and MRI but this will help for now." He instructed; his hands gentle and steady as he finished wrapping. He hadn't realized that he'd held on to Wilson's foot longer than necessary until said man gently lifted it off House's lap.

"I'm fine. It's not that bad." Wilson cooed while he straightened up and laid his ankle back on the floor. He was thankful that he still seemed to be blushing from the entire incident so that no one could see the blush he'd acquired from the feeling House's touch elicited.

House gave a Cuddy a look then both of them stood up. Cuddy grabbed a throw pillow from the couch and placed it on her vacated spot while House moved his chair out of the way and sat back down on the coffee table. He grabbed Wilson's right leg then gently yet forcefully placed it on top of the pillow next to his left thigh.

A cracking sound filled the air then Cuddy placed the instant ice pack on top of Wilson's ankle. "So," she began as she sat in the armchair next to the couch, "what's going on?"

"Nothing." All three men answered harmoniously.

"Right, you three decided to get together for lunch even though you two," she pointed at House and Wilson who hadn't moved from their previous positions, "do not talk to him and are mad at him." She finished mockingly while pointing a finger at Lucas.

"Well, you know how it is," House began, "we were in the cafeteria, we saw Lucas and asked him to join us."

"Uh-huh, you're forgetting the part where he tripped Wilson on purpose." She responded, reminding him of his earlier words.

"Just a prank." Lucas offered lightly.

Cuddy's eyes went to slits at his words, "You're the one who's been pranking them." She announced coolly. Lucas' blush was all she needed. "I thought I asked you not to retaliate."

"Well, I didn't think a little bit would hurt them." Lucas offered weakly, blushing slightly at the glares from all three of them. Cuddy let out a frustrated sigh and shook her head.

"Wait, you know?" Wilson squeaked confused.

"Yeah, I do." She answered eyeing him blankly. She was happy to see shame and embarrassment in his eyes but didn't let him know.

"I-I-I-" Wilson stammered.

"You're a jerk, yes we know let's move on." She prompted more heavily than she meant to. She wasn't really mad at him, it was just a place to live after all, but she wanted him to squirm a bit.

Wilson tried to hide the hurt that etched itself onto his face but he noticed Cuddy's eyes soften slightly and knew he hadn't hid it that well.

"Well, now that that's settled," House said, taking the ice pack off his friend's ankle, "we have to get to radiology."

"Nothing's settled." Cuddy retorted.

"Sure it is. You know what's been going on and what happened." House replied lightly.

Cuddy opened her mouth to counter-argue but she quickly shut it realizing that House was right and she had no motive for keeping them there. "Fine, go to radiology." She ordered grumpily. "But you three had better behave like civilized adults towards each other from here on out." She warned earning a snort from House and Lucas and an eye roll from Wilson.

House stood up from the coffee table, grabbing Wilson's shoe and sock then helped pull Wilson up. He handed the oncologist the crutches and waited for him to lead the way.

Wilson grimaced lightly when he stood up and the blood rushed to his injured ankle but took House's cue and began to head to radiology, grateful when Cuddy opened the door for him.

When House and Wilson had gone, Cuddy walked up to her boyfriend. "I appreciate the gesture of the pranks," she cooed, wrapping herself around him, "but please don't next time."

"Oh, come on they were funny." Lucas argued with a smile.

"I'll admit that the fire sprinklers were funny but the rest weren't. The opossum could have bitten Wilson and House could have been hurt a lot worse than a scratch from the bar coming off the wall. Not to mention that Wilson could have been hurt a lot worse than a sprained ankle." She admonished.

"They're jerks." Lucas dismissed.

"Yeah they are," She agreed, "but they are also my friends."

Lucas acknowledged her statement with a small head nod and a kiss. "So, dinner?"

Cuddy laughed thickly, "Sounds good. What do you have in mind?"

"Well," Lucas answered coyly, "I was thinking take-out in bed."

She smiled appreciatively before she disentangled herself from him, "Sounds perfect." She answered as she began to gather her things for the night.

They walked out, hand in hand and eager to get home. They had things to do tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

House and Wilson walked into the loft, House awkwardly carrying the oncologist's briefcase and his own backpack while Wilson unsteadily crutched through the door. Four hours after leaving Cuddy's office, Wilson had been sent home with a diagnosis of a Grade II sprain. Though House hadn't told him, Wilson knew he'd need to rest the ankle for four weeks and of course ice it for the first 48 hours. It wasn't exactly ideal given his patient load but he also knew it couldn't be helped.

They'd been in House's office with Wilson resting in the armchair in the corner and House in his office chair when the results had come in so when Taub thought he'd found a new case, they had gotten stuck at work longer than either of them had wanted to be.

Tired and hurting they collapsed onto their uncomfortable, orange couch. Wilson debated just staying there and reclining his seat but decided that his bed would be more comfortable at the moment so he grudgingly got up and crutched into his bedroom.

House swallowed a couple of Ibuprofen before he followed, grabbing a pack of frozen peas from the freezer first. He found his friend lying on his back on his bed, still clothed with a small grimace on his face. "You going to sleep in your clothes?" House asked jokingly.

Wilson groaned at the thought of getting back up, it felt SO good to lay in his bed, but he knew that House was right so he hastily undressed, struggling briefly to get his pants off, and then climbed back on his bed. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he should get a pillow and use it to elevate his ankle, but he was just too worn out to care.

He felt a cold, gentle hand lift his leg then lay it back down on top of a soft pillow, place a package of frozen peas on top of his throbbing ankle then drape a blanket over him. He couldn't stop the smile that crossed his face. "Did you just tuck me in?" He asked, opening his eyes to get a good look at his friend's face.

His mouth almost fell open when he noticed a deep blush burn on House's cheeks. Immediately he felt bad; he hadn't meant to embarrass his friend. "Sorry," he apologized, "just wasn't expecting it."

"It's fine." House answered before he quickly limped out of Wilson's room and into his own.

Both men lay awake for hours trying to decipher the actions of the other; wondering what each little movement meant and their own feelings. They knew that they wanted to take the friendship further, deeper than it was but neither knew if the other felt the same way and feared what would happen if the subject was brought up.

In the end Wilson decided to leave it like it was but study House's actions for hints while House decided to bring it up and see what happened. They fell asleep feeling a sense of accomplishment mixed with dread for the next day.

* * *

Wilson crutched into the kitchen in the morning to start the coffee. Always the morning person, he has always been the one to get coffee and sometimes breakfast going while House sleeps in.

He was on his second cup and a bowl of cereal when House came limping in. "Morning." He greeted cheerily.

"Morning," House replied with a cheerfulness that wasn't usually attributed to the grumpy diagnostician in the morning. He was in a good mood and genuinely excited for his little experiment. He took a quick look at Wilson before he headed over to grab his coffee and frowned.

The oncologist had both of his legs hanging loosely over the bar stool, his left touching the floor and grounding him while the right just hung there.

"Aren't you're supposed to keep your ankle elevated?" He asked knowing full well what the answer was. He limped over to grab a cup of coffee then limped back around the counter, conveniently placing himself on Wilson's right side.

Wilson was about to answer when House grabbed his leg and lifted it into one of the dining room chairs. Too surprised by House voluntarily touching him and the gentleness with which he did, Wilson didn't object. He blushed when he realized he enjoyed the feel of House's hands on him, even if it was just his leg.

House smirked at Wilson's blush and made no move to take his hands away. When his caffeine addiction called to him House let go of his friend's leg, giving it a small massage before he did so and sneered when Wilson's blush deepened. _Oh yeah, this was going to be fun!_

"You'd better get ready for work," Wilson instructed, grimacing when his voice broke a couple of times.

"Yes dear." House quipped. He turned to leave, conveniently hiding the wolf's grin that had crept onto his face when Wilson's cheeks turned beet red at his comment.

They drove in to work together in contemplative yet comfortable silence. Since he'd never said anything, Wilson couldn't figure out if House was just screwing with him, if he meant it all or if he was doing both and it frustrated the hell out of him.

The frustration grew until they arrived at the hospital where Wilson promptly got out and huffily crutched his way to his office, shutting himself in the privacy and peace of it.

House watched his friend walk away with amused concern. On one hand it was extremely fun and funny to mess with Wilson this way but on the other since the oncologist wasn't used to crutches, the hastiness with which he walked away could be hurtful for him.

He pushed aside his concern and focused on his amusement. Everyone that passed him looked at him confused by the constant smile on his face and the seemingly good mood he was in.

He pleasantly walked into his office, thoroughly enjoying the suspicious looks he was receiving from his team. _Today is going to be good day_ he thought before he entered into the conference room.

* * *

Wilson didn't bother looking up when his balcony door swooshed open, the chilly air ruffling the papers on his desk.

"How's the ankle?" House asked, limping his way over to the couch. Though he'd asked lightly, leaving one to think that he didn't care, he really did want to know.

"It's fine." Wilson replied, dropping his pen on top of his desk and studying his friend. "What's up?"

"Why Jimmy, I'm shocked!" House exclaimed in mock hurt, "Why do I have to have a reason to come visit the best oncologist on the eastern seaboard?"

"Maybe because it's you and you don't come in here unless you have a reason." Wilson suggested lightly.

"Hm, good point." House conceded, "I need a consult."

"So why didn't you have one of your team come get me or just call?" The oncologist asked suspicious.

"Am I not allowed to visit you?" House argued.

"No, of course you are I just find it weird." Wilson answered staring intently at his friend.

House blushed and avoided eye contact but answered honestly none the less, "I didn't want you walking around too much today." He mumbled, hoping that it had been low enough for Wilson not to hear.

"Seriously? You're," Wilson squinted while he searched for a different worried but could only think of one, "concerned for my health? Are you sick?"

"No I'm not sick you moron." House sniped.

Wilson studied House skeptically, looking for some kind of joke in his friend's eyes but only found the truth. Since he didn't know what to say, however, he stayed quiet. He became aware of the throbbing in his ankle and brought his hand down to massage his thigh in an effort to appease it.

"You okay?" House asked, noticing the action.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Wilson answered automatically. He instantly regretted the less than truthful answer when House got up from his spot on the couch after a head nod and made his way behind Wilson's desk to his right leg. He stopped and, much to Wilson's confusion, locked the office door. "House, what are you doing?" He asked warily.

House pulled up one of the chairs across from Wilson's desk to sit on, seating himself perpendicular to Wilson's outstretched and elevated leg. "Trust me." He answered as he stretched out his hands and began massaging his friend's calf.

Past experience screamed at Wilson to jerk House off his leg but the softness of the older man's touch and the sincerity in his voice held him still, allowing House to knead the tense muscles. He gasped and jerked reflexively away when House accidentally pressed on an irritated muscle due to the sprain, causing a sharp pain to slide down his leg.

"Sorry," House apologized. He kept his touch around Wilson's mid-calf and higher.

"Not," Wilson's voice broke on the word so he cleared his throat and tried again, "not that I mind but why are you massaging my leg?"

House moved his hands up to Wilson's thigh as he answered, "You were massaging your thigh with a look of pain on your face so I thought I'd help. I do have help with painful thighs you know." He tried to keep their normal tone of snarking lightness but feared he failed miserably. He smiled when Wilson let out a restrained groan and felt something hard greet his hand. "I can stop if you want."

Wilson absolutely didn't know how to answer that. Of course he didn't want House to stop but he feared what might happen if he didn't. He sat with his indecision for a couple of minutes when he decided to throw caution to the wind and leaned in, kissing House on the lips.

He froze for a minute when House didn't respond, worried that he'd done the wrong thing but he soon felt House open his mouth slightly, inviting Wilson in with his tongue.

House's pager was the thing that broke them apart, its shrill beeping scaring them and causing them to jump away from each other. "Well," House said while he checked the message, "that was interesting. We should try it again when we have time to explore."

Wilson looked at House with his mouth hanging open. "So, that was something you want to try again?" He asked hesitantly.

House's answer was to smile mischievously at Wilson then leave, unlocking the office door before he went through it.

Wilson stared at the door, somehow expecting it to give him answers when House hadn't. Upon receiving none, he did his best to turn his attention back to his job, thanking whatever random deity that sick people wasn't a turn-on for him.

* * *

Weeks passed since they shared a kiss in Wilson's office and neither brought it up again. It wasn't from a lack of want, however but more a lack of time. House had been kept extremely busy by patient after patient after patient, leaving him practically living at the hospital, while Wilson had his usual caseload to deal with.

Wilson walked into their loft, almost jumping when he saw his friend sprawled out on the couch, sound asleep. He softly walked up to the couch to make sure that it was indeed House rather than some random stranger and smiled sadly when he did recognize the scruffy face. Dark circles covered House's closed eyes, showing just how tired the diagnostician was. Wilson debated leaving him on the couch or ushering him into his own room.

The couch seemed easiest since House was already there but he knew that the older man's ruined thigh would not thank him in the morning so he reluctantly nudged his friend awake and hauled the sleepy man to his own room.

Once House was settled, Wilson walked back into their living room and began to clean up the empty food cartons and multiple empty bottles of beer from the coffee table. He put away and reloaded the dishwasher, took out the trash and scrubbed the countertops all before he collapsed onto his own bed. Not even bothering with dinner for himself, he fell asleep.

* * *

The next day was another busy one for Wilson. He'd instructed House's team that if there was a problem or a consult, to come to him first before they bothered House at home. That along with his own patients, he'd barely had time to sit down, let alone eat.

He arrived at home exhausted, nauseous and aching but managed a smile when he limped in to find House cooking happily in the kitchen.

"Welcome home!" House called out with a smile on his face and blue apron covering his light blue button down shirt and dark jeans. He frowned when he saw how tired his friend looked.

"What smells good?" Wilson asked by way of distraction. He knew that frown and really didn't want House asking a million questions.

"Soufflé," House answered still frowning but turning his attention back to whatever food was in the pot.

"Do you need any help?" Wilson offered for lack of any better response. Normally he'd come up with some witty comment about House being able to make a soufflé but right now he was just too tired.

"Nope, you go sit down and relax."

"I think I'm going to change first. Don't burn down the kitchen." Wilson warned lightly as he limped over to his bedroom.

"Why Jimmy? I've made it this far what makes you think I would now?" House called after his friend, his frown deepening when he noticed the limp. Wilson had been walking just fine on his right ankle for a couple of weeks now and he worried that the oncologist had somehow hurt himself again.

He pulled the risotto off the flame and placed a little on each plate, adding to the medium-rare ribeye steak and steamed vegetables. Not necessarily fancy but just as delicious.

Wilson reappeared wearing a striped button down of his own, medium jeans and bare feet. House scanned him over twice, pleased with what he saw before he offered an inquisitive eyebrow at his friend.

"It seemed to be the dress code." Wilson answered indicating the diagnosticians' own apparel.

House allowed a genuine smile to cross his face before he nodded his approval, cleverly hiding the frown at the obvious signs of exhaustion coming from his friend and the slightly swollen right foot which wouldn't have been noticeable to anyone else but House.

Wilson helped set the table and grabbed the plates while House took the soufflé out of the oven then limped over to the table where his friend was waiting.

"How was your day?" Wilson asked conversationally.

"You know, it was oddly pleasant. No one called me at all today." House answered with a glint in his eyes. Wilson's blush told him what he'd been fishing for. "You took all my calls today didn't you?"

"Yeah." Wilson answered tiredly, mentally smacking himself for answering truthfully. He really shouldn't have conversations with House when he's tired; it seems he's incapable of lying then.

"Thanks but you didn't need to." House offered before taking a bite of his steak.

"Well we couldn't have you dropping dead of exhaustion now could we?" Wilson teased, taking another bite of the delicious risotto.

"But it's okay if you do?" House countered.

Wilson gave an appreciative yet tired smile. "I'll be fine after a good night's rest." He assured after taking the last bite from his plate. He stood up and limped over to the sink, rinsing off his plate and depositing it in the dishwasher before he slowly made his way back to the table with two smaller plates in hand.

House quickly wiped the frown on his face that he'd gained from watching his friend to a smile then served dessert.

They ate it in silence, one studying the other. Wilson was pleased with the way House looked (and in more way than one!). The dark circles from last night were considerably less and he seemed to be moving easier than he was the day before. House's leg always hurt more when he was overworked and exhausted so Wilson often made it his mission to keep House from getting that way.

House on the other hand was not pleased with what he saw. While Wilson was doing a damn good job of acting happy and energetic, House could see the exhaustion in the oncologist's face and pain in the bleak brown eyes. He didn't like seeing his friend like this.

Once dessert was over, House quickly got up and finished the dishes while he urged Wilson to relax on the couch. It didn't take much convincing to get Wilson to comply and he slowly limped his way over to the couch while House watched him from the kitchen.

He leaned into the couch, resting his head against the back of it and closing his eyes. He was too tired to worry with putting his feet up so he sat there, looking like a tired statue. Wilson heard House's _step thump_ and figured the older man was making his way over to sit down next to him and watch TV. He outwardly cringed at the idea of the TV being on, giving that he had a headache, but he didn't want to interrupt the little relaxation time House got either.

House's cane bumped him in the head and he thought about opening his eyes to see WHY but he decided against it. Keeping them closed helped his head and kept the room from spinning slightly.

It was when he felt his right leg being lifted from off the floor and gently placed on House's legs that his eyes opened. Rather than sitting next to him, House had sat himself down on the coffee table opposite Wilson.

House rolled Wilson's jeans up to his knee while he examined the oncologist's previously injured and currently swollen ankle. "Did you injure it again?" He asked continuing with his examination.

"No," Wilson answered while watching House with a curious eye, "just been on my feet a lot; I've been running around the hospital since I walked through the door this morning."

House nodded, grabbing the bag of frozen peas which often served as an ice pack rather than dinner and placed it on top of Wilson's ankle.

Wilson tried to jerk his ankle away from the cold but House held firmly onto his leg, keeping the ice pack on and Wilson's leg on his own. Some part of him wanted to get his leg away from House but the rest of him admitted that it felt good leaving it where it was.

After ten minutes, House removed the peas and began to massage the ankle and foot. Since Wilson couldn't feel it, he didn't object but he wondered what House was getting out of doing this.

"Why are you doing this?" Wilson finally asked.

"Do you want me to stop?" House asked, keeping his gaze on the younger man's foot and not in his eyes. Given Wilson's tone, House wasn't sure he wanted to look up into his friend's eyes.

"No, I was just curious." The oncologist admitted. He winced slightly when House pressed on a tender spot. The numbing effect of the ice was starting to wear off and with that he was able to feel what was going on.

House noticed the wince and decided to ease up on his pressure, "Wanted to make you feel better; help ease the pain." He shrugged.

Pleasurable shivers went through Wilson as House ran a steady thumb up the sole of his foot. It felt like every tense muscle in his foot and ankle released. Wilson winced and grimaced when House ran his soft, comforting hands over another tender area. "Sorry," he apologized when the diagnostician stopped massaging.

House replaced the ice pack of toweled peas on top of Wilson's ankle, still keeping the leg on top of his own. "It's fine," he assured though he wasn't sure why Wilson was apologizing in the first place.

He grabbed a pillow from the couch and placed it under Wilson's leg in substitute for his legs. He collapsed onto the couch next to Wilson close enough for their bodies to rub against each other then stole a glance at his friend. "Head hurt?" He asked, watching the younger man massage his temples.

Wilson stopped his massaging and looked at the man beside him. "Yeah." He answered, not really knowing what else to say. House's massage had helped relax the rest of his body but it had done nothing to ease the persistent throbbing of a headache that he'd had since he walked through the door.

Before either of them could respond, House leaned in and gave Wilson a slow, lingering kiss. Wilson didn't even pause to process what was going on instead he just went with it; opening his mouth and nipping House's lip, suckling gently on it while House did the same to his.

"We should get you to bed." House optioned gruffly while trying to catch his breath. He hadn't expected that kind of response from Wilson but judging by the excited fire that ignited his nerve endings, he liked it.

"Will you be joining me?" Wilson asked hesitantly. It wasn't that he didn't want House to join him, he just wasn't sure if House wanted to.

"Do you want me to?" House asked equally just as hesitantly feeling the same exact hesitance as Wilson.

"Yes," Wilson answered quietly, "as long as you're okay with no sex any time soon."

It was then that Wilson's offer to join him in bed struck House as much more than it was. He understood that Wilson's latest qualifier meant that if House took this opportunity, he would be looking for a relationship with the older man that went far beyond the bounds of friendship. House only hesitated for a few seconds before answering, "Sounds good. I think you're too tired for any tonight anyways."

"House-" Wilson began wanting to clarify what he meant.

"Wilson, I knew what you meant." House assured, standing up and offering a hand down to his friend.

A warmth indescribable to either man spread through their hands, warming each heart and connecting them in ways they didn't even know possible.

Wilson started limping for the kitchen with the bag of peas in hand. His ankle felt better but it still hurt to put his full weight on it so he was left with limping.

Just as he closed the freezer doors, Wilson felt strong arms encompass his waist and instinctually he leaned into them. He welcomed the feel of House's arms around him and wondered why it had taken him so long to admit his feelings for his friend. Granted, he hadn't said anything outright but he knew that House understood perfectly well what he meant.

"Thank you." House whispered softly in his ear.

Wilson turned around, a grimace painting his face when he twisted the hurting ankle a bit more than it wanted. He stared into the completely open and unguarded cerulean eyes, searching for exactly what he was being thanked for.

All of a sudden, it clicked. House being this open and caring had been a show of trust. He'd been trusting Wilson with something very few had seen; HIM. And Wilson had passed the test with flying colors, even managed to hand a little bit more of himself in exchange. That was what House had needed, wanted and was grateful for.

Since he couldn't think of an answer that wouldn't sound completely cheesy or come close to relaying just how he felt about the gift he'd been given, Wilson elevated himself slightly by standing on his tip-toes and kissed House with his reply.

They stayed locked in that position far longer than Wilson's sore ankle liked but he didn't care. He'd finally gotten the one person that he'd been wanting for the last twenty years. As long as he had House, everything else was trivial.

* * *

**Alrighty, second chapter done. I hope those of you reading liked it! I promise to be nicer to Wilson in the next chapter and may even include some slash/sex in it! I'm going to try to make this story a little more fluffy than my other ones so we'll see how that goes! **

**Please review and let me know your opinions! **

**PS: I apologize for the OOC-ness of House. I probably won't be keeping him too IC during this story. Sorry.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

Wilson walked into the diagnostic department's conference room in time to hear House say, "Get me an arterial blood gas test, tox screen and MRI."

The fellows filed past Wilson silently, throwing each other looks of 'is he crazy?'

Wilson stared at his lover of six months fondly. It had been a wild ride from the get go. Between telling Cuddy and House's team, a crane accident where Wilson had had to rescue House from himself and Cuddy and Lucas getting engaged they'd barely had time for each other.

Sure they spent every night together, sitting on the couch and watching TV. Sometimes they ended the night with fantastic sex and others they were content enough to just fall asleep cuddled in each other's arms. Of course, you'd never get House to admit that he cuddled with Wilson; you'd never get House to admit that he cuddles.

Tonight they were supposed to go out for a nice dinner at the same restaurant Wilson had fake-proposed to House while their neighbor Nora sat on a date with the diagnostician. The memory brought a smile to his face though at the time he'd been annoyed with House for sabotaging any chance Wilson had had with her.

A strong hand wrapped around his wrist, drawing Wilson out of his memories and thoughts, then pulled him toward a warm, comforting body with a scruffy face. Now that no one was around, House was more than willing to give Wilson a hug and kiss 'Hello'.

"Hey," House greeted after he'd pulled out of the kiss.

"Hey yourself." Wilson greeted in return, following his friend into the office next door. "How's your patient?"

"Don't know but it's nothing the kids can't handle." House dismissed while he sat down and stretched his long legs across his desk.

Wilson sat down in the chair across from the desk, slouching slightly once he was seated. "So, we're still on for tonight then?"

"As far as I know." House replied flatly.

"Right, well I have clinic duty to do before I can go home so I'd better go." Wilson stood then walked around the desk and bent down for a kiss. "See you tonight. Six pm sharp."

House smirked at the twinkle in Wilson's eyes then pulled him down for another kiss before pushing the younger doctor away. "Go." He instructed.

Wilson gave a loopy grin but walked out and headed for the clinic. Tonight was going to be a good night!

* * *

At six o'clock that evening both men were dressed and walking out the door. House dressed in his usual manner of a t-shirt covered by wrinkled button down and dark jeans while Wilson had dressed in a crisp button down and black slacks.

They were seated immediately, one of the benefits of reservations, and were soon relaxing with a glass of wine while waiting for their meals to come. They talked about nothing in particular, mainly passing time and when they ran out of things to say, they stayed comfortably silent; communicating with their eyes more than their mouths.

The food came, occupying them with the delicious aromas and tantalizing tastes. Every once in a while House's fork would snake across the table and grab a bite of Wilson's Chicken Cacciatore but for the most part he was too interested in his own meal.

They paid with Wilson's credit card then left, comfortably full and drowsily satisfied. Stopping outside their door, House leaned down for a deep, sultry kiss which ended with them hastily entering the loft and into their bed all the while not keeping their hands off each other.

House pushed Wilson onto the bed, causing the oncologist to bounce as he landed, then he pounced on top while ignoring the cries of pain coming from his thigh.

Early on in their relationship, House had discovered that Wilson liked it when he took the lead in the bedroom and was a little forceful. It was never forceful enough to hurt the younger man but enough to establish his alpha-male status. He didn't mind it really; after all he was the more dominant one of their friendship anyways so why not continue that in bed as well?

He worked Wilson on the bed so that he was lying flat on his back with his arms above his head, House's hands firmly holding the wrists in place. House wormed his way between Wilson's legs, not having to try too hard since that was where Wilson wanted him anyways, and began exploring Wilson's neck, chest and stomach with his mouth.

He gently nipped and nibbled Wilson's ear lobe, neck right under his chin and nipples; each one earning a pleasured groan from the prostrate man. House moved his hands away from Wilson's wrists and brought them down along Wilson's side and chest, massaging gentle circles in the flesh while he went.

Something poked into House's stomach, calling attention to Wilson's groin. He smiled seductively as he continued his way down then took Wilson in his mouth, playing with his tongue and nipping the tip gently.

Wilson groaned deeper and bucked his hips. God he wanted to be in House right now! He kept the steady but soft thrusts going, thoroughly enjoying the feel of his lover's mouth.

House pulled away, earning a whimper of disappointment from his friend, and began working his way back up Wilson's chest.

The oncologist responded by gently rolling House on his back and rubbing his hard, throbbing erection against House's while he returned the nips and nibbles to the older man's neck and ear.

House thought he was going to go crazy with pleasure, he couldn't think. "Please," he begged. Wilson tweaked his nipple causing him to start in pleasure and start thrusting his hips as well. "Fuck James!" He cried out, wondering how long the human body could last without an orgasm.

Wilson offered a sexy smile, "If that's what you want." He offered.

House quickly switched their positions then leaned down for a bruising kiss. "You know damn well that's what I want." He said thickly before reaching for the lube and condoms.

Wilson rolled onto his hands and knees in the doggy style position while House wrapped himself around his lover and eased into Wilson, using his fingers first then thrusting deeply with his dick.

House curled himself over Wilson, his hands going around Wilson's side and fastening to his thighs. He steadily increased the speed and strength of his thrusting hips, causing Wilson to gasp in pain and pleasure.

When he felt close to climaxing, House straightened up and held very firmly onto Wilson's hips, keeping the same speed and strength as he had been. He finished with a strangled cry of pure ecstasy then collapsed onto his spot on the bed completely exhausted but 100% satisfied.

Wilson lay down next to his partner, groaning when his body let him know he'd be sore tomorrow. He cuddled up with House, noting with a smile that the older man was already asleep.

It had been awhile since they'd had sex so it didn't surprise him that things had progressed as fast as they did. He fell asleep with one leg wrapped around House, his arm resting on House's chest and House's heartbeat singing him to sleep in his ear.

* * *

The next morning Wilson's alarm blared alerting both men that it was time to get up. House groaned then took his morning Ibuprofen while he watched Wilson get out bed. He winced slightly when he saw the bruising on his friend's hips. He hadn't meant to be so rough last night, it just felt like animal instinct taking over and driving his strength.

Wilson turned around to notice House staring at him in concern. He looked down at his bruised hips and felt his mouth drop in surprise. When had that happened? He palpitated the bruises out of curiosity only to slightly wince when he pressed on the biggest part of them on his hip bones. Meh, it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

"You okay?" House asked noticing the wince that crossed his friend's face.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Wilson answered with a smile then scurried to the bathroom to get a shower in before work. Mornings in their place were busy ones, well for Wilson they were. He would get up, shower and dress, wake House up to do the same then he'd stroll into the kitchen, start the coffee and eat a quick breakfast.

Dressing happened slower this morning because his back and shoulders reminded him they weren't happy about the strain they were put through last night. He mentally shrugged off the discomfort knowing it would ease the more he moved and walked into the kitchen to start the coffee.

He was in the middle of a bowl of Frosted Mini Wheats and a cup of coffee when House strolled in looking happier than he had in weeks. It made Wilson's heart swell with pride when he realized that it was him causing the happiness.

House grabbed a cup of coffee then walked around Wilson to sit beside him. As he was passing, he paused briefly, placed his cup next to Wilson's, placed his hands on Wilson's shoulders then bent down and gave his friend a good morning kiss. He wasn't prepared for the pain that quickly crossed the oncologist's eyes just before their lips met and quickly pulled back with a studied frown.

"I'm okay," Wilson assured, "just not as young as I used to be." He stiffly stood up, rinsed out his bowl and placed it in the dishwasher before he downed the rest of his coffee and put on his coat. The days had been getting colder with the coming winter but he soon realized that in combination with his suit jacket, he didn't quite need his heavy winter coat yet.

House quietly watched his friend move about the apartment, his movements becoming easier with every step, before he too followed Wilson's example and put on a coat then grabbed his backpack.

They walked into PPTH, the November breeze chilling them enough to appreciate the heat that greeted them. Once on the fourth floor they separated to their individual offices without saying a word knowing that they'd see each other for lunch if they weren't too busy.

House's patient had finally been solved. She wasn't cured by a long shot but her disorder could be managed with the right care and medication. He spent most of his day peering out of his balcony window and watching his friend meet with patients.

The day passed quickly for both men and they soon found themselves at home sitting on their couch cuddled together with beers in their hands and the TV on.

House had his arm wrapped around Wilson's back with his hand covering the oncologist's arm. At first he hadn't wanted to cuddle this way because he noticed that Wilson still moved stiffly but Wilson had assured that his back was fine so House caved. The diagnostician knew that by dismissing his back, Wilson was actually meaning that the stiffness was coming from his hips but they both were able to pretend that nothing was wrong with the younger man because he hadn't outright said it.

At ten o'clock, Wilson ushered them both to bed acknowledging that they both had to get up early for work the next morning. House had initially objected but Wilson's whining had eventually won him over.

They stripped and climbed in bed. Tonight was one of the nights when they were perfectly content to cuddle in bed and sleep which is exactly what they did until Wilson's alarm blared the next morning.

* * *

**Sorry for the short chapter. I wanted to write a fluffy chapter without Wilson being hurt but realized that I'd have to make it short in order to do that so there we go. I hope you enjoyed it!**

**Please review and let me know what you think!  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

The next day things continued the same for House. He still didn't have a patient so he spent most of his time hiding in his office playing his PSP or in an empty exam room playing his PSP. He started when his pager beeped continuously with a 911 to Wilson's office. While he didn't really think it would be a real emergency, he didn't want to ignore it in case it was.

He made his way leisurely to Wilson's office, taking a back way so he would pass his own first; he wanted to check on the ducklings to make sure they weren't getting into trouble, especially not without him. House heard the yelling before he saw anything and hurried as much as he could, turning the corner and arriving in the hallway in time to see a man with a cane, clearly one of Wilson's patients, gesture wildly with his arms. Wilson reached out a hand to try to calm the man down which gave the patient an opening to swing his cane as hard as he could into Wilson's left side. House cringed when he heard at least two of Wilson's ribs snap from the force.

Wilson was thrown off balance by the blow and before he could do anything, the man before him pushed him aside, reminding House of a boy pushing a foe out of the way before a fight, which caused the oncologist to fall into one of the hospital benches that lurk harmlessly against several walls of the hospital.

The man stormed into Wilson's office where a surprised scream could be heard. He returned with his wife being dragged behind him then entered the elevators, his hand gripping the fragile looking bicep with bone-breaking force.

Foreman flipped open his phone and called the front desk telling them to alert security to stop the patient and her husband while House quickly limped his way over to his friend.

"Wilson?" He called out softly, grabbing the oncologist's attention. Pain filled brown eyes focused on him and House thought his breath had been taken away. "Just hang on we're going to get a wheelchair then get you taken care of."

Wilson nodded, tears streaking down his cheeks. His side burned white hot with pain, every breath was torture and his right hip throbbed mercilessly.

"Did you hit your head?" House asked while he quickly ran a diagnostic over his pained lover.

"No," Wilson gritted out, "side and hip."

House nodded then grabbed Wilson's right hand to take his pulse while they waited for Chase to bring the wheelchair. His pulse was erratic and thready indicating that he was in extreme pain but it was steady enough for House not to have to worry about a heart attack just yet. Once he was finished, House wrapped the limp hand in his own wincing slightly when it squeezed tightly.

Chase arrived with the chair and a shot of Demorol. He handed the pain medication to House first who quickly and expertly administered it. They waited for Wilson to relax before Chase helped him off the floor.

Wilson grimaced with the movement but since the pain meds were coursing through his veins, he didn't feel too badly right now. He moved to walk, with Chase's assistance, over to the wheelchair that House now stood behind but almost fell again when his right leg buckled. _Crap!_

Chase immediately wrapped his arms around Wilson's waist grimacing as the oncologist cried out when he pressed against the broken ribs. "Sorry," he apologized while he helped steady the injured man, "you okay?"

Wilson smiled lightly at him, the smile turning into a grimace, "Yeah, thanks, just wasn't ready." He gently nudged away from Chase and managed to limp over to the wheelchair albeit while barely putting weight on his right leg.

"Chase, go get two ice packs." House instructed while maneuvering the wheelchair so that he could sit down on the bench that Wilson had slammed into and gaze diagnostically at his friend.

Wilson sat slightly hunched in the chair, his left arm guarding his side while his right massaged his right thigh which no doubt burned with pain from his hip. His eyes were only half open giving one the appearance of the man trying to fight sleep but House knew they were that way to not only guard against the diagnostician being able to read them but to squint in pain without actually doing it. It was a technique the oncologist used when one of his patients (or House) was giving him a headache but he didn't want them to know.

House studied Wilson's eyes for a moment, deeply searching them to see if he could find out what the oncologist was really feeling. He was taken aback to find fear. Sure, he had expected Wilson to be shaken up but nothing more than that.

Before he could say anything, Chase came back with a toweled ice pack and a gelled ice pack. He handed them to House then waited to push Wilson to Radiology.

House inwardly winced when he noticed the fear in Wilson's eyes grow as he leaned forward to apply the packs. He didn't understand why his friend was suddenly afraid of him until he saw the cane shaped bruise on his side. Then it clicked.

All the times during his recovery from the infarction that he had threatened Wilson with his cane, the few times he actually followed through though not enough to do this much damage. Then there was the time he had threatened Wilson while at work during the Tritter debacle. No wonder Wilson was afraid of him; his mind had probably briefly put House in place of the patient's husband.

Quickly House threw Chase a glare that said 'Don't you dare mention this to anyone else'. "Are you okay?" He asked gently while he applied the toweled ice pack to Wilson's side.

Wilson snapped out of his panicked daze, embarrassed. He knew that House was referring to more than his injuries. His friend had seen what Wilson was thinking about and it was ridiculous to feel that way because he knew House would never do something like this. "Yeah," he assured. House tapped his right side lightly indicating that Wilson needed to lift his hip, "sorry."

House laid the gelled pack on the chair, waited for Wilson to sit back down then wrapped it around the oncologist's hip. He gave Chase a nod before turning his attention to his friend. "Chase is going to take you for X-Rays. I'm going to stay here so that I can fill Cuddy in. You know she's going to be freaking out because her Boy Wonder Head of Oncology got hurt." He quipped with a smile earning one from the man in the chair. He stood up, turning his attention to Chase, "Bring him back here when you're done. I'll take him home after that."

"House, I don't need to go home." Wilson objected before Chase began to push.

House smirked, "We'll see."

Chase took that as his opportunity to head to Radiology, not giving Wilson a chance to argue again.

* * *

As House had predicted, Cuddy came to his office more than twenty minutes later demanding answers.

"Wow, you held out longer than I thought you would." House snarked.

"Well after I handed Mr. Jacobs over to the cops, I had a few fires to put out and then assign Wilson's patients for the day to Brown. I do have a hospital to run." She answered somewhat defensively. If she had been able to get here sooner, like when it had happened, she would have.

"Mr. Who?" House asked lightly, throwing his Lacrosse ball against the wall and keeping an eye out for Chase and Wilson. Chase had sent him a text earlier telling him that they were done and heading back with the results.

"Jacobs. The guy who attacked Wilson. Judging by the state his wife was in, this wasn't the first time he'd hit someone."

Just as House was about to snipe at her, Chase entered with a heavily limping Wilson behind him. "Why aren't you using the chair?" House asked in a demanding tone.

"He said he's fine without it." Chase argued holding his hands up in a 'don't blame me' gesture. He exited to the conference room where the rest of the team was debating on what could be wrong with their new patient.

"House, I'm fine. The X-Rays showed no breaks and the MRI showed it was just a deep bruise." Wilson told his friend.

House opened his mouth to argue but was cut off by Cuddy, "How are you?" She asked concerned by her friend's hunched and pained posture.

Wilson gingerly eased himself onto House's yellow recliner. He leaned into it, placing his feet on the ottoman with a contented but exhausted sigh. "I'm fine, just a couple of broken ribs and some deep bruises."

"That sounds like the opposite of fine to me." Cuddy answered, her brows furrowing in concern and scolding. If that was his definition of 'fine' then what was his definition of 'bad'?

"Don't worry, I'm taking him home." House inserted drawing attention from the other two.

"House, I've already told you I don't need to go home." Wilson argued.

"Well, I've already cleared your schedule so you might as well." Cuddy answered. "And after hearing the general results I'm going to strongly suggest that you take a couple weeks of medical leave. You won't be up to doing much with broken ribs let alone a lot of sitting at a desk then walking around a hospital."

Wilson wanted to argue but he knew that by 'strongly suggest' Cuddy was actually saying she wouldn't allow him to return to work until then.

"I should probably get the next couple of weeks off too." House intoned putting on his 'concerned' face. "I mean poor Jimmy might need someone to take care of him. We wouldn't want him moving around too much do we? What if he hurts himself even more?"

Cuddy and Wilson both rolled their eyes but it was Cuddy who answered, "Fine, you can have the time off too but you'd better be available by phone for consults with your team."

"Okay, come on Wilson." House said, standing up to pack.

"Can we just stay here for a little bit longer?" Wilson asked almost pleadingly.

House stilled in his efforts to shove some stuff into his backpack. He turned and studied Wilson before he nodded, "Yeah, we'll stay until after traffic."

"House, that's four hours from now." Cuddy said confused but lecturing.

"I know." House answered with a deep inhale. When Cuddy went to argue some more he added, "You should probably go back to your office. You've got a hospital to run you know?"

Cuddy stared at him evenly before interpreting his jab as a hint to let him handle things. She offered a nod then turned around. Putting a hand on his shoulder, she told Wilson, "Feel better and let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks." Wilson responded tiredly.

As Cuddy walked out the door, House limped over to a well ignored white lab coat then laid it over Wilson. "You'd probably be more comfortable in a bed or at the very least your couch."

"Yeah but I'm already here." The oncologist answered, his eyes already drooping.

"Do you need more pain meds?" House asked noticing a flash of a grimace cross his friend's face.

"Nah, I'm okay for right now, thanks."

House bent down and laid a gentle kiss on Wilson's forehead. "Get some rest and let me know if you need anything."

Wilson was asleep before House left. The diagnostician drew the blinds shut, closing his office in darkness, threw his sleeping friend one last look then walked into the conference room to begin bugging his team.

* * *

Before he could begin bugging his team however, it seemed they felt it was necessary to bombard him with concerned questions.

"How's Wilson?" Thirteen asked in her normal 'I act like I don't care but I do' way while perusing the new potential patient's file.

"Why don't you ask Chase? He loves to gossip." House quipped while moving to sit behind the desk in the corner.

"We did." Taub admitted, semi-drawing out his answer, "He wouldn't tell us anything, said to ask you."

"I knew I trained him well." House reminisced.

"I'm not a dog," Chase objected somewhat annoyed, "but I do know what's good for my health and annoying my boss isn't."

House smirked at the Australian's comment. As much as he tried to deny it, he really did like Chase and of all his team, the Intensivist was the one he trusted most. Foreman is reliable and smart but he's too much like House to actually be worthy of trust with something as precious to the diagnostician as Wilson.

"So?" Thirteen interjected, her comment breaking through his thoughts like a fist through a car window.

"He's fine. A couple of broken ribs and deep bruises on his side and hip." House answered making it sound like it was a great inconvenience for him to repeat. In truth he appreciated their concern but he really didn't think it was any of their business. "He's sleeping right now." He finished with a glare at each of them letting them know to enter that office under pain of death. "Differential Diagnosis people!" He chimed, diving into the second most important thing in his life, his job.

* * *

**There we go, chapter 4! Don't worry, I plan on being nice to poor Wilson in the next chapter :winks: **

**Please review and let me know what you think! They help keep me motivated.  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

Five o'clock came and went and Wilson slept on. House wasn't going to wake him but eventually a nagging voice in his head, which sounded remarkably like Cuddy, told him that he couldn't leave the oncologist in the chair all night; not with his injuries.

House grabbed a cup of water and a blister pack of Aleve to help ease the pain he new Wilson would be feeling when he woke up. He only needed a sample for right now because they had a full bottle of Aleve at home.

Limping over then sitting down on the empty space available on the ottoman, House poked his friend's leg with his finger to wake him. It took a few tries but eventually it worked.

Wilson woke groggy and in pain. His side burned like lava was coursing through it rather than blood and his hip throbbed angrily from being in the sitting position for too long. Busy eyebrows met in the center of his forehead in a grimace when his mind registered the pain.

"Good morning sleeping beauty." House greeted cheerily, handing Wilson the cup of water and pills.

"Thanks." Wilson accepted then turned his attention to the fading sun out the window. "What time is it?"

"5:30pm. I figured I'd let you sleep until half way through rush hour." House stood up then gathered his things.

Wilson watched his movements, a smile crossing his face when he noticed that his coat and briefcase were resting in one of the empty chairs across from his friend's desk. Gingerly, he stood up and limped over to put his coat on earning a glare from House.

"Let's go, stubborn idiot." House said in reply, the affection in his eyes belying the roughness of his words.

Wilson offered a warm smile that could only be translated as 'I love you too'. He followed slowly behind his friend, still limping heavily. The bruise on his hip could have been worse but that didn't mean it didn't hurt to walk. That along with sitting in one position for over three hours had stiffened the muscles causing them to grumble when he put weight on his leg.

House slowed his pace painfully aware of how slowly his friend was moving. If he ever got a hold of that guy, Jacobs was his name, the man would be beaten within an inch of his life with his own cane. No one had the right to hurt Wilson, his Wilson.

Eventually they made it out to their car then drove home. Once inside, House herded Wilson into the bedroom allowing him only to stop to go to the bathroom before he was stripped down to his boxers and a t-shirt.

Wilson stiffly climbed into bed, pleasantly surprised when House was immediately beside him, fluffing his pillows and placing a few well placed ones behind his back. They helped take pressure of his injured side while still supporting his middle-aged, bad back.

Once Wilson was settled, House limped off in search of a couple ice packs, a bottle of water, a heating pad and a bottle of Aleve. All of the aforementioned objects were for Wilson with the exception of the heating pad – that was for House. His thigh had begun to throb agonizingly and he needed to be able to move around in case Wilson needed something.

The rational part of his mind realized that trying to keep Wilson still for too long was like trying to keep a bull from bucking but he would do it even if he had to straddle the oncologist which would be painful for both of them.

Another rational part of his mind whispered that it was ridiculous to be so desperate to take care of Wilson. _The man could very well take care of himself and you aren't supposed to care, remember! _It taunted.

House shook his head to clear the voice. Despite the popular opinion, he DID care about Wilson even before they had gotten together and maybe even more so now because of it. No matter how he acted on the outside, every time Wilson hurt he did too. Especially when Amber had died and it wasn't just because he felt responsible for killing her.

At the time, House truly thought that Amber was Wilson's one chance to be happy and he'd felt horrible for screwing that up just because he was, essentially, jealous of Wilson's attentiveness to the cutthroat bitch. Then she died and House felt like his heart had shattered along with Wilson's though he was never going to show that to the oncologist. One of them needed to keep some semblance of normalcy and that person was House.

Before he knew it, House was in bed next to Wilson with a heating pad wrapped around his thigh and, judging by the dryness of his mouth, he had already downed a couple Ibuprofen.

"House?" Wilson called, shattering House's thoughts. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." House answered lightly.

Wilson frowned, "Yes that must be why you haven't said more than twenty words since you've woken me up." He quipped. It bothered him that House had been deathly silent ever since they'd left the hospital. Gregory House was not prone to silence unless he was mad or upset and Wilson was determined to figure out which.

"Glad we agree." House replied with a curt nod then turned back to the JAMA in his hand.

Wilson let the subject go. He could tell that House wasn't willing to talk about things right now so he leaned his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes. His side burned and throbbed with every breath making him wish that, just for a few hours, he didn't have to breathe at all. His hip was throbbing angrily, not happy with the work it had been made to do.

Gently he scooted down into the bed, feeling slightly relieved when the pain in his hip and side dulled enough to be close to comfortable. Briefly, Wilson debated getting another dose of Aleve but while he wasn't in the lap of luxury, he was comfortable enough to know that he had no desired to exit the bed.

House's attention was distracted from his JAMA by the sound of flesh creating friction with fabric. He looked over to find Wilson absently rubbing his thigh. He could tell by just one look that his lover was in pain but too exhausted to do anything about it. "Time for meds?" He asked off-handedly while keeping his eyes on the journal, giving the appearance of indifference.

"No, I'm okay." Wilson answered in a groan. He winced at the sound of his voice but kept that expression to himself. The last thing he wanted was for House to know that he was still hurting.

Judging by the heating pad wrapped around his friend's thigh, Wilson guessed that House's leg was hurting and he really didn't want the older man to move again for the rest of the night if he could help it.

"Sure you are." House argued.

When he made a move to get up, Wilson's arm shot out, stilling his movements instantly. "Really House, I'm okay. It's nothing that you don't deal with daily." He assured earning an eye roll from House.

"Idiot," he chided lightly, "I have to be in that kind of pain, you don't. I'm going to get the Aleve."

Before Wilson could object the older man was gone. When House came back Wilson watched him carefully for signs that the trip had made his leg pain worse. He released a breath of relief when he found none. He guessed that House had taken another dose of pain meds and was feeling pretty good himself.

Silently, House handed Wilson his meds and a fresh glass of water then went back to his side of the bed. He waited until his friend had finished taking his meds then snuggled close. For some reason he couldn't define, House felt the need to wrap his body possessively, yet gently, around Wilson. It was as close as he could become to marking Wilson as his while ensuring that he could protect the younger man should any harm come his way.

Though Wilson found the action of House snuggling with him disconcerting, he didn't argue. Wilson liked cuddling with House and the fact that House had instigated it meant the diagnostician needed the contact. Why, Wilson wasn't sure but he went along with it while keeping his mouth shut. He guessed that House would tell him when he was ready.

They fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms with House's arm and leg wrapped snugly around Wilson's legs and stomach.

* * *

The next couple of weeks passed quietly with House refusing to let Wilson do anything for the first couple of days. By the third, the diagnostician thought he would kill his lover so he allowed Wilson to get up and do whatever the hell he wanted while House relaxed in the Jacuzzi tub. His leg had been screaming at him for the extra work he'd been doing for the past two days so by the third day, House wasn't sure if he could do anything anyways.

Today was the first day of Wilson's return. Cuddy had suggested that he take longer but House had vehemently argued against that stating that his friend would become homeless if he didn't go back to work soon. Both Cuddy and Wilson knew that that meant the oncologist was driving his friend batty so Cuddy reluctantly agreed to let Wilson come back.

Wilson's injuries were a great deal better but they still bothered him when it came to too much exercise which, while it wasn't heavy cardio, is exactly what three-fourths Wilson's job was. Cuddy had instructed him to let others do most of the work for him but both House and Wilson knew that he wouldn't. Wilson was a very hands-on kind of person when it came to his job. He liked to micromanage almost every single detail with the exception of his schedule and he handled each patient consult, meeting or call personally.

Being the Head of Oncology, Wilson had twice as many patients as the rest of the doctors in his department but somehow he always managed to be there for every single one of them. Most times it meant that the oncologist ran himself ragged, often coming within an inch of burnt out but House had learned long ago to recognize the signs and was often there to intervene long before that point.

Wilson walked into his office and immediately felt exhausted. What was supposed to be his desk was now a mountain made out entirely of paperwork. The only things that gave away there was a desk underneath the mountain were the streaks of mahogany wood that poked through.

He walked through his office and sat down behind the mountain, wincing slightly when his hip groaned at the quick action. He groaned when he checked his phone and found over thirty messages in his voicemail. Today would be yet another LONG day…

**AN: I apologize for the short chapter which was probably FULL of mistakes. I didn't beta it before I posted. I kind of fell flat with this chapter so I thought I'd find a good place to stop then start the next one anew. Sorry for taking so long to update. RL has been BUSY for me lately and it may remain so for a while.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6:**

House watched Wilson flirt with the new nurse, Rose, in the ER. They stood in front of the welcome desk chatting lightly and laughing heartily. It was enough to make House's heart tighten and his stomach coil in anger. The fakeness with which Wilson laughed and the way Rose would touch Wilson's forearm brought bile into his throat.

Instead of acting on his wish to storm down there, kiss Wilson furiously then drag him away from Rose, he remained exactly where he was wishing that he could shoot fire from his eyes like Superman. He'd aim straight at Rose first, burning a hole in her heart then he'd burn a hole through Wilson's shoulder as a reminder. Okay, okay so he wouldn't actually kill the nurse and he couldn't hurt Wilson like that but damn he'd be tempted!

Wilson gave a friendly pat on Rose's shoulder before he turned around and walked towards the elevators, heading for his office.

House glowered at Rose for a minute longer before he turned to meet Wilson at his office. He needed to talk to Wilson.

* * *

Wilson walked gratefully into his office, breathing a sigh of relief with the silence that greeted him. Rose was nice but she could grate on Wilson's usually patient nerves. He was surprised that House wasn't waiting for him; he'd noticed House watching him, jealousy clearly shining through the ice blue eyes.

"So, when's the date? Am I invited?" A sarcastic yet familiar voice mocked.

Wilson turned around to find House standing in the balcony doorway, anger in his eyes. He let out a frustrated sigh, "There's no date. We were just talking."

House snorted, "Sure."

Wilson stepped towards his friend but soon found himself on the floor by his desk, his back crying in pain, his side screaming and his ankle groaning. His stunned expression reflected in the diagnostician's face.

House stood in the doorway, feet shoulder's width apart and his hands wrapped around his cane like it was a baseball bat. In his anger he'd struck Wilson on the side with his cane, the resounding _thwack_ still echoing in his ears.

A lead stone of guilt landed in his stomach causing the bile to return. He couldn't believe he'd just struck his one and only friend and his lover. "Wilson?" He asked allowing his tone to convey his apology and concern.

Wilson waited until the pain in his body died down enough to move before he answered. Unfortunately, the only answer he had to give was a sardonic laugh. "You seriously don't trust me?" He accused not bothering to hide the hurt in his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry." House stuttered, moving towards Wilson. He placed a soft hand on the younger man's forearm and outwardly winced when he retreated violently from the touch.

"I know." Wilson assured with resignation. While he was still upset about House's lack of faith, the oncologist realized that he'd forgiven House for many worse things in the past – compared to them, this was nothing. Yet it hurt more than anything House had ever done including when he'd left after Amber had died.

Suddenly his legs collapsed under him, the weight of his emotions crushing him and his momentarily weakened body became too much. House immediately caught him, keeping him from landing hard on the floor and easing him onto the couch.

House began scanning over his friend's body with the practiced eye of a diagnostician. Realizing he couldn't see jack through clothes (he wasn't Superman after all!), the scruffy doctor unbuttoned Wilson's shirt and pulled the undershirt up. He winced at the cane-shaped purpling bruise covering his friend's right side.

He ran a gentle but comforting hand over Wilson's back, rubbing soothing circles over his shoulders while examining the potential damage that had been done when he'd awkwardly slammed into the edge of the desk.

Shivers ran through Wilson's body while shuddering breaths escaped through dry lips. It took House a moment to figure out that there were tears falling like rain drops down Wilson's cheeks, flowing onto the oncologist's pants and leaving tear tracks where they landed.

The heart that he was SO sure didn't exist shattered when the diagnostician realized that he caused those tears, he had caused the pain his friend was experiencing in more ways than one.

Abandoning his attempt to examine his friend, House wrapped his arm lightly around Wilson's back, his hand clamping securely around the shaking arm. He pulled the pained man into him while he leaned back, settling in for the long haul.

House ran his hand through Wilson's soft brown hair while he whispered sincere apologies over and over and over. "I do trust you," he began earning a scoff from his friend, "I just think that one day you will leave."

"House," Wilson replied with a scratchy voice, "of all the crap we've gone through, what makes you think I will leave now?"

"I think you'll find your breaking point and I won't realize what it is until it's too late."

Wilson stayed silent for a minute before responding, "If you don't start trusting me, that point may actually come."

House held his tongue. He wanted to snap that he'd already explained his reasoning but he knew that snapping wouldn't help right now.

They sat on the couch for ten minutes, each silently lost in their own thoughts. "Sit up," House instructed being the first to snap out of it, "I want to finish examining you."

"I'm fine." Wilson answered with a sniffle. He gingerly raised himself off his friend then leaned into a vacant spot opposite House on the couch. He was about to argue further when House's pleading response stalled him.

"Please, just let me finish." House stared into Wilson's eyes a minute before he turned his gaze to a rather boring spot on the floor by Wilson's shoe before he added quietly, "I need to make sure you're okay."

Wilson's bristly demeanor softened, "House, I'm okay. It's just a few bruises."

"Then strip." House replied while he gently de-clothed Wilson's torso.

Wilson inhaled sharply as cold hands came in contact with his bare flesh. "Cold," he muttered when he felt House pause in confusion. After the initial shock he actually found the cold comforting on the stinging bruise.

He gasped involuntarily when House pressed hard on the tender spot in Wilson's back. His hands clasped tightly on the edge of the couch while he waited for the stabbing sensation to calm down. If he wanted to be honest, it hadn't hurt that badly. Sure, it hurt, and a lot but it wasn't enough to warrant the reaction he gave. The pain surprised him; he hadn't realized that House had moved on from his side to his back.

A warm hand covered the small of his back, just laying there. "Wilson?" House's voice called through the din of his thoughts. Brown eyes looked into concerned blue. "I'm okay. Sorry."

House stared at Wilson for a few minutes, his confusion as to why Wilson was apologizing written clearly on his face. "You have strained a muscle in your back and possibly a couple of cracked ribs," he gave a wince of apology, "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"Yeah but it's not serious, I'll be fine." Wilson dismissed quickly.

Instead of asking the oncologist where he was hurt (which he knew would be useless), House ran a quick eye over his friend and checked each limb over Wilson's actions after House had hit him.

He wondered if Wilson's inability to hold himself up was all due to the emotions. Quickly, he grabbed Wilson's left leg and hoisted it into his lap. The ankle was swollen. He manipulated the joint without warning his friend, something that in hindsight he probably should have done or at the very least apologized for in advance.

Wilson gasped at the unexpected pain that shot through his lower leg and foot. Instinctively he withdrew his leg only to have a strong hand wrap firmly around his thigh, stilling his movements. "Ow." He ground out for lack of anything else better to say.

"Sorry," House apologized while he massaged Wilson's thigh with his hand. "It's just a sprain but you should probably stay off it for a few days. I'll go get some ice and a bandage." Smoothly and stealthy House let his hand slide down Wilson's leg while he spoke. He used his voice to distract his friend while he took Wilson's shoe and sock off.

His eyes softened and became glazed when tears shone in his friend's chocolate eyes. House knew it would hurt but leaving the shoe on wouldn't do any good. He stood up, moving Wilson's leg off his lap, using it to gently turn the oncologist so he's laying length-wise on the couch before he lay the swollen ankle on top of a pillow. "Be right back."

Wilson allowed himself to succumb to exhaustion and soon fell asleep after House left.

* * *

A knock on his door was the next thing Wilson was aware of. He groaned when he checked the clock to find that he'd only been asleep for five minutes. "Come in." He granted while he sat up to at least attempt to look professional.

Cuddy walked through the door looking crisp, clean and beautiful in her pencil skirt, silk blouse and feathered hair. "Hey,-" she began until she looked at Wilson who still had his dress shirt unbuttoned and the undershirt raised, "what happened?" She asked taking in the bruise on his side.

"Uh-" Wilson began not able to immediately think of a lie.

With her heels pounding into the carpeted floor, Cuddy came up to him and sat beside him. Her fingers traced the bruise before they froze. "Did House hit you?"

"Cuddy, I'm fine."

"That's not a denial, that's a reassurance." Cuddy scolded, her eyes flashing in anger. "I am a doctor, despite House's opinion. I can tell for myself if you're fine or not. What I want to know is did House hit you with his cane?"

"No." Wilson answered as a gruff "Yes" filtered into the room.

House limped into the office carrying an ice pack and an ACE bandage. He held his head high and his back was straighter than before he left. The defiance in his posture made Wilson want to stand proudly next to his friend. However, he didn't think his body would cooperate with the command.

He walked straight up to Wilson and faced Cuddy. "Move," he commanded evenly though his eyes gave no room for argument.

Cuddy complied hesitantly. She grabbed one of the empty chairs across from Wilson's desk and planted herself firmly in it, making sure that if they wanted to leave they had to pass her first.

House sat down next to Wilson, motioning for the oncologist to place his leg back on House's lap.

Wilson obeyed, stiffly moving himself into position and allowing House to grab his leg. He relaxed against the couch while he allowed House to wrap his ankle and ice it.

Cuddy watched as Wilson allowed House to treat him. She knew that her head of diagnostic medicine hit her head of oncology even if Wilson wouldn't admit it. It angered her to know this – she let House get away with a lot but abusing her friend, and his, wasn't something she was prepared to let go.

However when Wilson relaxed under House's touch and fully trusted him, her anger abated a little – but only a little. "What happened?" She asked.

"Lover's quarrel." House answered lightly.

"So you decided to hit him?" She demanded annoyed.

"Of course not," House objected growing angry himself.

"Then what? Tell me. I'm really intrigued to know what your reason is for hitting your only friend with your cane." She challenged. The reddening of Wilson's cheeks was the only sign that he was conscious otherwise his closed eyes and shallow but steady breathing gave the appearance he was asleep. Cuddy realized she was embarrassing her friend but at the moment she didn't really care.

House kept his mouth shut and stared at her, his ice blue eyes yelling what he refused to – _It's none of your business!_

Cuddy returned his glare unflinchingly. His glares were something she was used to and this was far too important to her to let slide. She turned her attention to Wilson who, sensing his friend's anger, opened his eyes and stared at her. "Are you okay?"

Wilson made a move to get up but House stalled him. "I'm fine Cuddy. House thinks it's just a couple bruised ribs and a sprained ankle."

"Well, I'd like someone else to take a look at you. Call me crazy but I don't trust the guy who did the damage to guess what said damage is."

"Actually, I said a strained muscle in your back, a couple possible cracked ribs and a sprained ankle." House half chirped, half scolded.

"I'm still fine." Wilson interjected, throwing House a glare.

Cuddy didn't know whether to be shocked that House was admitting that he'd hurt Wilson worse than Wilson himself was admitting, annoyed that Wilson was downplaying everything or protective of Wilson because House had done this in the first place.

She settled on resignation. She gave a look at Wilson, "I want someone else to examine you. I don't care if it's just Chase, I just want someone else." She changed her look from Wilson to House, "I want to see you in my office tomorrow morning, 8am." She walked angrily out, leaving the two men alone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7:**

Chase walked casually over to Wilson's office, his thoughts on trying to figure out why Cuddy asked him to go in the first place.

She'd stormed angrily into the diagnostic's conference room and pulled him aside into House's office then asked him to get over to Wilson's office and give him a brief yet thorough examination. She hadn't explained anything beyond that which had intrigued the intensivist.

He knocked on Wilson's door briefly before letting himself in. Chase figured if Cuddy had sent him here then there was no point in acting like Wilson had a choice.

Wilson lay on his office couch seemingly relaxed. The only thing that told Chase the man needed an examination was the elevated and iced ankle that balanced on House's left leg. "I've been sent to give you an examination." He prompted.

"Well get on with it." House answered petulantly annoyed.

Chase waited for he go ahead from Wilson before he stepped forward and bean prodding and poking Wilson's torso. When he'd finished his assessment, Chase moved on to the ankle. He grabbed Wilson's leg and shifted it from House's leg onto his own. He dislodged the ice, placing it on the ground next to his chair then expertly unwrapped the obviously swollen joint.

The small twitch his eyes gave when Wilson hissed with pain was the only wince Chase would allow on his face. It wasn't that he was afraid to show emotion, unlike House, but he really didn't want to be mercilessly mocked for it for the next three weeks.

He winced minutely again when Wilson let out a gasp as Chase manipulated the injured ankle. Chase hated that he was hurting the oncologist but he realized there was nothing he could do to fix it until after he'd finished his exam.

Chase rewrapped the ankle, placed it back on House's leg then replaced the ice on top. "I agree with House's diagnosis but to make Cuddy happy I think we should get X-Rays." House and Wilson smirked. "I'll go get a wheelchair then take you to radiology."

"Chase, I don't need a wheelchair." Wilson objected.

"Yes you do." House answered firmly. "I seem to remember telling you that you'll need to stay off that ankle for a few days and your back won't be able to handle the crutches right now."

Chase left, letting the two men duke it out on their own. He knew Wilson didn't like being paraded around the hospital in a wheelchair but the oncologist really did need it. He returned to find House helping Wilson off the couch.

Wilson leaned on House heavier than Chase thought he should but kept his mouth shut. Judging by the lines of pain around the oncologist's eyes, he needed the support.

Once they'd gotten Wilson into the chair, Chase pushed Wilson to radiology while House, under a lot of arguing and force, went to his office to wait.

* * *

House sat at his desk, tapping on the surface impatiently. He'd just gotten back from doing an hour of clinic duty and still Wilson wasn't back. It wasn't that House was codependent on Wilson but, well – he was.

He needed Wilson like a fish needed water. He didn't know what would happen to him if Wilson should leave him or, God forbid, die. House doubted that even Wilson knew how much he needed the oncologist and he couldn't bring himself to admit it to his friend. Hell, he could barely admit it to himself.

Just as he was about to call Chase and demand information for the millionth time when said man walked through the door pushing Wilson in the wheelchair. "It's as you said, strained muscle, couple cracked ribs, sprained ankle. I sent the proof to Cuddy so she'll stay off your back."

"Thanks Chase." House answered, dismissing Chase.

Wilson slowly and painfully eased himself out of the wheelchair then hobbled over to one of the chairs across from House's desk earning a spectacular glare from the diagnostician.

"Are you incapable of following doctor's orders?" House lectured.

"Yes, especially when they're yours." Wilson answered not missing a beat. House continued his glare. "House, I'm fine. It won't kill me to walk around."

"No but it will hurt you." House argued quietly.

Wilson, having been shocked by House's statement, stared at his friend with curiosity and concentration. Something in House's tone caught his attention, alerting him that something was going on with the diagnostician. He needed to figure it out otherwise he wasn't the "House Whisperer" everyone thought he was.

After a few minutes of staring openly into House's eyes, it clicked. House felt guilty for hurting him and even though the pain wasn't as bad (in Wilson's opinion) as House seemed to imply, the fact that he was in pain at all hurt the scruffy doctor. The fact that House was the cause probably killed him.

While he wanted to soothe House's conscience, Wilson didn't know what to say. He could say that he was fine but they both knew he wasn't and would be hurting for a few days at the least. He could say that it's okay but a small part of him had to admit that it wasn't okay, not in the least. He wanted to give the man a hug with a loving embrace and a forgiving kiss but they weren't big on PDA and his body yelled at him for the movement from the wheelchair to the regular chair.

He grimaced as deep, throbbing pain sliced through his thoughts, radiating from his toes to his calf. His injured ankle was letting him know its anger at being used without help or support.

House rolled his eyes and shook his head in exasperation. With a dramatic flair he stood up, walked around his desk, grabbed Wilson's leg and gently placed it on the open chair across from the oncologist.

"Idiot," he commented with a look at Wilson that clearly stated _Please take care of yourself._ His hands wanted nothing more than to rub themselves all over Wilson's leg and injured ankle to help ease the pain but the doctor part of his brain recognized that a massage wouldn't help, it would only cause more pain. "Come on, let's get you home."

"House, I don't need to go home. I'm fine." Wilson argued with placating hands.

House snorted, "Yeah well, I talked to Cuddy while you were getting your pictures taken and she told me to take you home and take care of you." He inwardly shrugged off the lie, it could be true if he'd actually talked to Cuddy.

Wilson's left eye twitched as he studied his friend. "You didn't actually talk to Cuddy did you?"

"Nope." House answered succinctly, picking up the phone and calling Cuddy.

"_What House?" _Cuddy snapped into the phone. The clacking in the background indicated that she was busy typing on her computer and she was obviously still mad at him for hitting Wilson.

"I'm taking Wilson home and will return in time for you punishment tomorrow morning." House supplied simply.

There was a short pause when the clacking stopped then Cuddy answered, _"Fine but you had better take good care of him. You owe him that." _The words _after what you did_ hung in the air and didn't need to be said for House to hear them.

"Remember to bring the chains and whip." He snarked before hanging up the phone. He looked at Wilson, "Happy?"

"Yes." Wilson answered with a smirk. Gingerly he lowered his leg and shifted in the chair to begin to move.

"Stay there." House snapped, tired of Wilson constantly hurting himself because he refused to listen to House. He hooked the wheelchair with the curved end of his cane then dragged it across the room, his right arm easily pulling the chair.

Placing a gentle hand on Wilson's arm, House helped Wilson to slowly stand then ease into the chair. He inwardly winced when Wilson groaned with pain, the softening of his blue eyes the only indication of the sympathy he felt.

They got Wilson home and on the couch with relative ease and great pain for both of them. House had tried talking the oncologist out of sitting on the couch but he wouldn't be deterred. It was still early after all and he wasn't ready to lay in bed.

As Wilson settled, House went and made up three ice packs. He limped back over to the couch then placed an ice pack against Wilson's lower back, bruised side and swollen foot. Then he left to grab a cup of water and a bottle of Ibuprofen. Normally he would have gone for the Naproxen but he wasn't sure Wilson would take it right now since he was busy trying to hide the pain that easily shone in his chocolate eyes in order to convince House that he was fine.

His stomach growled when he passed the kitchen and House checked his watch. He nor Wilson had eaten anything in hours and since he didn't really feel like making anything he decided he'd order some food. "What do you want to eat?"

"Hm, oh, I'm not really hungry so whatever you want." Wilson answered sleepily. He hadn't realized how drained he felt until now and he felt his eyes closing and the sounds of House limping around the loft drifting away.

* * *

When he next awoke, Wilson was sprawled across the couch with a fresh ice pack against his side, his ankle elevated on a pillow and iced and a blanket over him. He turned his head to the right to find House sitting in an armchair, reading a Muslim Medical Journal and every once in awhile looking over the top to check on him. "Hey," he greeted.

"How are you feeling?" House asked, laying down his Journal.

Wilson eased himself up to a sitting position with a grimace and looked back at House, "Sore."

House nodded his acknowledgement and kept his stare which Wilson returned with ease. They sat staring at each other for a while before Wilson broke the silence, "Are you hungry? I could make us some pancakes."

"Already ordered Thai. I intend to keep you off your feet, and more importantly that ankle, as long as I can." House explained, getting up when a knock came at the door.

They ate, sitting on the couch while watching The OC with two bottles of beer on the coffee table which sat under their feet. Once the meal was consumed, House ushered Wilson into the bedroom to rest while he cleaned up. Sure, he wouldn't be doing the dishes but the containers wouldn't be sitting around their home either.

When he returned to the bedroom, Wilson lay on top of the covers with a pillow under his head, knees and ankle. Apparently his back had been hurting him more than he had wanted to admit otherwise there wouldn't be a pillow under his knees, taking pressure off the lower back.

A pang of something akin to guilt stabbed House's heart with a blood red arrow. He'd done this to his lover; he'd caused this pain. What had he been thinking? Yes, he was mad and hurt at the thought that Wilson had cheated on him but if he thought hard about Wilson's actions he could tell that Wilson had only been polite and friendly, nothing more.

But no, he had to let his anger rule any common sense and if that wasn't enough, he let it rule his actions and actually physically hit Wilson! This wasn't the first time he'd hurt the oncologist but it was the first time he'd actually done it on physically and on purpose. There were always jabs at the things Wilson cares about and the occasional prank that goes wrong and ends up with Wilson hurt but he'd never actually just hit him to hurt him.

What made this all even worse was that Wilson had never hit House though the diagnostician had given him plenty of reason to. Never once had Wilson lashed out when House had basically gotten him fired, twice, and lost everything. Never during the time when Wilson was taking care of House after the infarction and House had done his best to hurt the oncologist, make him feel House's pain.

Now Cuddy and Chase knew. While Chase was no problem, Cuddy was. She was Wilson's friend too and House knew that she didn't trust him near Wilson right now. He knew that when Wilson had trusted him to take care of him at the office and Cuddy had watched, her mistrust had ebbed a little but not a lot.

Cuddy is furious with House for hurting her friend and being the mama bear that she was, she wasn't about to let that go lightly.

Wilson stirred and groaned, bringing House out of his thoughts and to the bed where the pained man lay. His eyebrows were knit together, the crows feet in the corner of his eyes wrinkling and his lips pressed together in a thin line all in pain.

Before he climbed in bed, House went and grabbed some meds for them both and a couple more ice packs. He gently shook Wilson to wake him, handed the meds and a cup of water to his lover while he placed an ice pack over the still swollen ankle and darkened bruise of his side then climbed onto his own side of the bed. He swallowed a couple pills himself and cuddled up to his friend, careful to avoid hurting the man.

Wilson's even breathing, warmth and smelled lulled him into comfort and sang him to sleep. Maybe when he woke up this day will have been a bad dream.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8:**

House woke to the sun beating down through the window, Wilson's warmth filling him and his scent surrounding House in a cocoon of safety and familiarity. Instinctively he wrapped his arm tighter around Wilson's side, cuddling as close to the most important person as he could.

Wilson gasped and groaned loudly in his sleep causing House to immediately release him. Had he really hurt Wilson? No, it was a dream – a hallucination. Gently, he lifted Wilson's shirt to reveal the cane-shaped, purple, green and red bruise he had seen in his dream.

House dropped the shirt in surprised and horror. He'd hoped that it hadn't been true; He couldn't believe he'd actually hit Wilson and he felt worse than ever about it.

Wilson groggily opened his eyes. He was aware that possessive, comforting hands wrapped around him, pulling him closer then he was aware of sharp, throbbing pain piercing his side and reverberating through his back.

He looked up to find House staring at him, sadness, anger, regret and love reflecting in his soft blue eyes, battling for domination. "Hey," he greeted sleepily.

House blinked, completely wiping the emotions out of his eyes. He hadn't been aware that Wilson was awake and could see EVERYTHING he was feeling. While he knew that erasing emotions from his eyes wouldn't help with the fact that Wilson had noticed, it made him feel better to do it none the less. "Hey,"

"We should probably get ready for work." Wilson supplied, filling the strange silence that surrounded the room.

"You're not going to work." House answered immediately, his eyes flashing in warning. "And before you start arguing that you're fine, let me remind you that I am your physician and I do know that you are not fine."

House's phone sounded, alerting him that someone was trying to get a hold of him. He groaned but picked up his phone to check and see who it was. A smirk appeared on his face when CUDDY flashed over and over on the phone, almost angrily. "Why good morning Dr. Cuddy, how may I help you?" House answered sarcastically.

"_House, you were supposed to be in my office thirty minutes ago."_ She snapped wearily.

"Well, I would have been, but I do have a wounded Boy Wonder Oncologist here that I need to take care of." He answered angelically.

"_House, you're the one who wounded him!" _Cuddy growled angrily. Apparently she was still mad at House for having hurt Wilson.

"Exactly! I should be the one to make him feel better." House supplied trying to make the suggestion sound logical though he was almost prepared to beg to be allowed to stay home with Wilson.

Wilson rolled his eyes and House's "logical" statement and Cuddy loudly groaned, _"House, I want you in my office within the next thirty minutes or I will move YOUR office into the clinic where you will spend every waking moment you're at work for the next month." _She threatened, her voice letting House know that she would indeed do it, _"After we are done talking, then MAYBE I will let you go back and take care of Wilson. While you're gone, I will send Chase there to keep an eye on him and help him when needed." _

It stung that she trusted Chase to take care of Wilson but he kept the acid comment which lay on the tip of his tongue to himself. "Okay," he said as lightly as he could after taking another minute to "consider" following her orders. "Send Chase over now, I'll be there in less than twenty."

He hung up, slamming his phone shut as loudly as he possibly could with out actually breaking it. He was furious that he had to leave just so Cuddy could feel like she was in charge and actually cared when he knew that she really didn't give a damn other than the fact that her Head of Oncology was hurt and out of commission for a few days.

"Are you in trouble?" Wilson asked, watching House's anger deepen. He didn't understand why his friend was angry but he wasn't going to ask either. He'd been on the receiving end of that anger enough to know that he didn't want to be on the end of it this time.

"No, Cuddy's PMSing and wants to yell at someone." He shrugged lightly while he pulled a t-shirt on. "I just happen to be the one lucky enough to supply her with a "reason"."

"You don't think she has a reason?" Wilson countered, playing devil's advocate while trying to weasel what was going on out of his friend at the same time.

House spun around to face Wilson, ice blue eyes flashing with deep seeded anger and an even deeper hurt. "Do you?"

Wilson smiled tiredly, the pain in his body had been escalating from tolerable to deep, painful throbbing since he'd been awake and it was getting harder to fight. "No but that doesn't mean that SHE agrees. House, I know you didn't mean to hit me but the fact is that you did and she knows about it."

"Pfft, she's not mad about that." House answered with a dismissive roll of the eyes. He quickly hid the apology in his eyes when a hurt look briefly crossed his friend's face. "She's mad because you're out of commission for a few days and she has to rearrange your schedule and find someone to take your patients."

The hurt, which had never left Wilson's eyes, deepened. "House, despite what you might think, she does care about me."

"Does she? Or was she only using you to get to me?" House countered angrily, immediately regretting it when Wilson looked like he was about to cry. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Look, Chase is going to come over and help you out while I get scolded by Cuddy." He filled in, limping over to give Wilson a kiss on the forehead, "No kissing," he added with a smile.

Wilson managed a weak smile but it didn't reach his eyes. "I promise."

"You're welcome to do other things though!" House called out before closing the door behind him.

* * *

Chase was about to enter the building when House came out of it with a sneer on his face. It made him relatively uneasy to see his boss so happy yet not.

House approached him, allowing his full height to tower over Chase, "I've already told him so I'll tell you. No kissing. You can do whatever else you want but no kissing."

Chase stared dumbfounded at the scruffy doctor, "Uh, alright," was all he was able to scrounge out.

House offered a minute nod then climbed on to his bike and drove away leaving a very stunned Chase standing on the sidewalk.

* * *

"I am here oh master. Punish me at your will. Preferably with chains, whip and some leather on." House announced as he entered Cuddy's office. He was pleased to find a well dressed couple sitting in the two seats across from her desk looking appalled and shocked.

Cuddy quickly recovered from her horror at House's blunder and turned a polite smile toward her guests, "Excuse me a moment." She grabbed House's arm, hard, and escorted him out of her office and into the clinic. "Stay out here and be useful while I finish this meeting." She commanded.

"But mom, you said that doing clinic would be my punishment if I DIDN'T come on time." House whined loudly.

"I never said what your punishment would be for not showing up on time in the first place." Cuddy countered, turning around and heading back to her office.

House pouted his way into an empty exam room where he patiently waited for Cuddy to come fetch him. Sure enough, twenty minutes later she entered with a flourish, grabbed his PSP out of his hands and physically dragged him into her office.

"Sit!" She commanded harshly pointing to the couch. She may be furious with her head of diagnostic medicine but she wasn't about to cause him more pain by making him sit in a hard chair while she ranted, raved and lectured. "What happened?"

"Nothing," House dismissed.

"House," Cuddy replied tiredly, "I know something happened and while neither of you feel like telling me what, I'm tempted to call the police for abuse."

House's casual façade fell at Cuddy's last threat. "You wouldn't."

"Try me. From what I can see, you hit Wilson with your cane and for all I know, it wasn't the first time." She explained.

"I am not abusing Wilson!" House yelled, surprising both he and Cuddy with his volume.

Cuddy waited until House calmed down before continuing her inquiry. "Then tell me what happened."

House stared defiantly into Cuddy's slate blue eyes. Seeing that it was either admit what was going on or have a report filed against him for abuse, he chose the truth. "I saw him flirting with a nurse, got jealous and accidentally hit him."

"Accidentally?" Cuddy challenged, ignoring for now the jealous comment. "How do you accidentally swing your cane into someone's side?"

"I didn't realize I'd hit him until he was on the ground." House admitted with his head resting on the handle of his cane and his eyes downcast.

Cuddy wanted to push harder but she recognized the embarrassing truth when she saw it and decided to let it lie. She could see that he hadn't meant to cause Wilson harm and felt bad because he had. "Okay, go home and make sure you take care of him."

"There's a threat." House sniped.

"And, if I see another bruise on Wilson because of you, I will file a report." She warned just before he walked out the door.

* * *

Wilson was in the kitchen when Chase walked in. "Aren't you supposed to be resting?"

Wilson jumped in surprise at Chase's voice, "Geez!" He exclaimed, spilling scalding hot coffee over his hand.

"Sorry." Chase apologized.

"It's fine. Yes, I am supposed to be resting but it's hard to rest when you're hungry." Wilson replied, answering Chase's earlier question.

"Uh-huh, and the coffee? I'm pretty sure it's not considered food." Chase scolded lightly.

Wilson blushed, "No, but you can't have breakfast without coffee."

"And how do you plan on getting to the table?"

"I hadn't gotten that far yet." Wilson mumbled.

Chase stepped forward, his body heat pressing into Wilson and smothering him, and grabbed Wilson's breakfast. "Go back to bed. I'll bring everything on a tray."

"Chase, I don't need to be in bed." Wilson objected, crutching away from the counter.

"Probably not but House will murder me if he comes back and you're not resting in bed. You wouldn't want that on your conscience would you?"

Wilson drew his eyes to slits, giving Chase an appraising look, "That's low."

Chase shrugged, "I know but better that than House's wrath."

Wilson conceded the point with a heavy sigh and then made his way into the bedroom. He had just sat down when Chase entered carrying a tray that Wilson so often used for House when the diagnostician couldn't get out of bed for the pain in his leg.

Chase sat the tray down on a spare table and walked up to Wilson, "Scoot back."

Curious where Chase was going with his commanded, Wilson did as he was told. Soft, strong hands lifted his right leg, placing a soft pillow underneath the ankle as they did so. Wilson winced at the pain and pressure the action brought but since the sprain was mild, it wasn't too bad.

The hands repeated the process sans pillow with the other leg then grabbed a pillow and placed it behind the oncologist's back. "Better?" Chase asked, his accent making the word come out sounding like "Betta?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"Any time, do you need anything else?" Chase asked wishing he could ease the pain which coursed through the older man's body. He placed the TV tray over Wilson's lap then stepped back, giving the oncologist a patient look while he waited for an answer.

"No, I'm good. You are more than welcome to go if you have other things to do."

"You know," Chase began, ignoring the half-hearted dismissal, "House told me we could do anything but kiss?"

"Yeah, he told me the same thing." Wilson answered, taking a quick sip of coffee. "I think he was just messing with us."

"That's what I was thinking but with House, you never know." Chase responded, sitting himself down next to the bed.

The two men sat, chatting and laughing; passing the time until House came back. Thirty minutes later, the front door lock released, announcing loudly that someone was entering the apartment.

"If you're done chatting about boys and doing your nails, you can go Chase!" House yelled upon entering, limping his way to the couch.

Chase gave a Wilson a smile, "I guess that's my cue. I hope you feel better soon."

"Thanks Chase." Wilson answered sleepily.

Chase walked out into the living room, "He's going to need his pain meds soon." He updated.

"Okay." House replied simply.

Chase rolled his eyes and left. He hoped that House would take care of Wilson but it was no longer his nor anyone else's place to intervene. The two men knew what each other needed and would ask for help (well Wilson would) when they needed it.

~_fin~_


End file.
